


Warring Royalty

by Showeranon



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:28:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Showeranon/pseuds/Showeranon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kingdoms of Prospit and Derse are forever locked in battle against one another. Throughout the Incipisphere, they clash for resources and ways to turn the endless war in their favor. They quarrel over planets and resources and lead open conflict in the name of either defending The Ultimate Reward or coveting its destruction.</p><p>John Egbert and Dirk Strider are the heirs of their respective kingdoms, accompanied by their friends, they seek to serve both their kingdoms and their personal designs. Fate and friendship intertwine with one another as the royal courts to be determine how they want the war to end, for better or for worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            John floated to The Battlefield on the cusp of the Breeze. The heir to the throne of Prospit flew in wide zig-zags and curlicues through the void of Paradox Space that separated the planets of the Incipisphere. Of the twenty-two that orbited Skaia, Prospit controlled ten. John loved watching these colorful spheres run their courses through the void. John loved the planets. He loved being able to get out and do things. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had an opportunity to do so in months.

            Today was different however. Today John would accompany a detachment of Prospitian troops through routine exercises and get a chance to see The Battlefield without an escort for the first time. Though the Queen had rolled her eyes at the Heir’s previous sarcastic remarks, she felt that he appreciated the opportunity. And he did.

            John passed through the first cloud in the upper atmosphere of Skaia, wind whipping at his stately attire. John wore a gold silken tunic emblazoned with the symbol of his kingdom, accompanying slacks, and simple blue shoes. A pair of rectangular spectacles where set on his nose, reflecting celestial glare as John approached Skaia. He had chosen to forego more formal outfits weighed down with frilled cuffs, embossed buttons, and expensive jewelwork, though the Queen had insisted on at least some level of official attire. After all, John wasn’t going to be seeing any action today.

            Of course, John had other plans. The clouds were an anomaly of Skaia; they were not condensed from water like the clouds on several of the surrounding planets. Rather, most assumed them to be whisps of the consciousness of Skaia itself, given their tendency to display images from all timelines and realities. John felt a slight buzz all about him as he passed through the cloud, wordlessly telling the Breeze to pick up speed. He tucked his limbs into his body and shot off from his leisurely descent like a rocket, blue trails of the Breeze’s power fading in his wake. He weaved through the complex geometric patterns that surrounded the planet below, wasting more time than he was aware before finally dropping close to the planet’s surface and setting himself into an even cruising speed.

            The Heir surveyed the landscape: The soil was black and white like a checkerboard, dotted with cliffs, trees, fields, and rivers. This section of The Battlefield was close enough to the Kingside Castle where he did not have to worry about hostile anti-air support. Though smoke rose in the distance, John still elected to duck in and out of the canyon of a river valley before darting back up to even ground and in the direction of the main military encampment.

            John groaned, immediately regretting his decision. Though the musclebound Prospitian commander had not berated John for his lateness, he made it abundantly clear just how much of a nuisance it was to have to start his demonstration so late. Of course, he was proud to have the Heir himself present at his operation, though he had wished the Queen had sent someone perhaps more suitable.

            “To be honest, I had been expecting your Page, Jake. As a young man training to assume command of the armed forces in the stead of our King, it would be his place to conduct inspections such as this.” The commander stated, proud and matter-of-fact. John stuffed his hands into his pockets and tossed his head skyward.

            “So, you don’t _want_ me here, is that it? ‘Cause I could head back right now and tell the Queen that you’d rather have the company of my general instead of the Heir…” John replied with no threatening intent but all of the effect, which promptly set the commander into a string of apologies and accolades. It took John several minutes to calm down the suddenly hysterical officer. They continued their tour of the encampment. It wasn’t long before John tired of the organization and speeches. All of the orders that the commander barked to his constituents bothered John to no end. For one in line to succeed the throne of a conqueror, John showed a certain lack of character required for the job.

            He didn’t allow the commander to bother him, though. No, he was on The Battlefield! This was _the_ place to explore, if anything. John knew he could get a full exploration of any of the planets under Prospit’s control, but everyone considered The Battlefield such serious business all the time, with no opportunity to see what the parts of the planet held beyond that of established Prospitian military bases.

            It was not difficult to slip away from the commander, perhaps aided in part by the fact that he was relieved to have John gone. Leaving the base was not difficult, but doing so without word of it getting back to the King or the Queen was a slightly trickier affair. Though within the hour, John was once again soaring low over the landscape of The Battlefield, picking up speed so that the black and white squares almost blended together into a solid grey.

            Every planet in the Incipisphere was unique. The Land of Heat and Clockwork was a sea of lava and metal, the Land of Maps and Treasure was a vast ocean containing tiny islets oversaturated with gold and Boondollars. And though he had seen it once before in person and many times in pictures and film, John couldn’t help but feel exhilarated as he sat on the edge of a canyon and tossed stones into the river below. The stark checkerboard soil, the almost inexplicable presence of trees and other plants, and the way that the castles and other buildings appeared to seamlessly blend with the landscape, as though they had been grown from the earth itself. And for all John knew they very well could have been. John cleaned his glasses lenses on his tunic and stood. He jumped, the Breeze carrying him across the canyon. He floated a little ways further before dropping to his feet and breaking into an even trot across what would pass for a small meadow. Soon, John found himself climbing a particularly steep face of hill. He paused mid-stride as a small yellow box blinked in the corner of his right lens.

            “Open.” John muttered. The box sprung to cover John’s field of vision; it was opaque enough to be legible, but transparent enough where John could continue walking, though slightly slower. The box blinked with the screen name of one of his vassals trying to contact him.  
“Hmm, Karkat? Pff, yeah. Ignorin’ that. Not after last night, buddy!” John said with a wry grin as he pantomimed a pair of pistols forward, the box closing and vanishing from his field of view. John flicked the corner of his glasses to turn off his messenger. He had more important things to do than be harangued by his subordinates.

            John reached the crest of the hill, weaving his fingers together and stretching, taking in the surrounding landscape. It was beautiful to be sure, though all very typical, save for the presence of a tall, lanky young man clad in a violet uniform.

            John cocked an eyebrow, but before he could speak the young man in front of him turned his head and sprang to his feet. His fair blonde hair was long and slicked back, and his hauntingly familiar face was covered partially by a pair of triangular sunglasses. John let out an audible snort.

            “Ha! Seriously? Those shades, dude. What’s up with that? I mean I don’t even need to take a stab at ‘em, they speak for themselves.” John said while containing chuckles. The young man did not appreciate John’s mockery.

            “Interrupting a bro’s meditation is rude enough, but then you rag on his totally sweet eyewear,” the young man said, drawing a straight blade that John had somehow failed to notice. He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, “That’s hella unchill, yo.” He said with calm certainty. John openly laughed.

            “Oh wow. I thought _Tavros_ was delusional,” John said, one hand on his hip and the other moving with his words for emphasis. John paused, examining the young man, “Oh wow, you’re totally from Derse, aren’t you!” He exclaimed. The young man dropped his head in slight disbelief.

            “Seriously?”

            “Well unless you’ve just got a naturally shitty fashion sense, though honestly that’s still probably a valid thing, then I’m gonna say that yeah, you’re from Derse.”

            “Oh, whatever fucking gave it away.”

            “Too much purple, your hair is kind of retarded…” John began to count on his fingers, rolling his eyes to the sky. The young man gripped his blade in two hands.

            “You’re John, heir of Prospit.” He said plainly. John looked up from his rapture with his fingers.

            “Yeah, that’s me. And you’re… Dirk, right?” John asked, dropping his hands and facing the young man, seeing him adopt a fighting stance.

            “Damn straight.” Dirk replied. John narrowed his eyes and caught Dirk smirk before the blonde youth vanished, leaving nothing but an afterimage.

            John felt a push at his side as the Breeze moved him to the right, Dirk’s blade materializing above his head and coming down with barely a hairline separating flesh and steel. John twisted; his face contorted by surprise, and kicked off, taking about ten feet above Dirk. The cut had managed to slice at John’s sleeve, exposing his forearm. Dirk reappeared below John, blade in hand.

            “Okay, _I’m_ the hella unchill one here?” John exclaimed, slowly distancing himself further from Dirk.

            “You’re totally the instigator.”

            “Oh that is such horseshit! I was going for a walk when all of the sudden the freaky cartoonish prince of Derse tries to give me a free trial to his amputation clinic!”

            “You have no idea how this works, do you.” Dirk said, dropping his guard just slightly. John scoffed.

            “I get the idea that we’re supposed to be fighting, and now I guess I see why,” John began to pantomime his words as he spoke, “You. Are. A. Colossal. Dick!”

            “You really expect me to be anything else.”

            “Well I dunno, maybe not so hasty! I mean fuck I don’t even have my hammer! Aren’t there, like, gentlemanly rules of engagement or something?” John shouted, running the back of his hand across his brow. Sweat dripped from his hand; Dirk picked up on this like a predator eyeing the weakest member of the herd. The Prince wordlessly jumped at the Heir, whose reaction was better suited to their engagement.

            Dirk swung and John dodged, the tip of Dirk’s blade cutting John across the thigh. John winced and shouted, doubling back and hitting Dirk full on with a blast of compressed air, striking him square on his collarbone and sending him flying hurdling to the ground. Midflight, Dirk corrected himself, executing a three point landing. He looked back up to John with a smirk.

            John continued to rise, now all but certain that he was out of Dirk’s reach. He floated in silence for a moment as Dirk stood, shouldering his sword. John heard a voice cry out and opened his mouth to reply before he realized that it had not been the Prince. He twisted his head, trying to pinpoint the origin of the voice. The Breeze carried him over and away from the hill, to another just nearby. Dirk jogged after John, blade still drawn, observing.

            John rose higher, peering over the next hill. Though it was distant, Dirk was certain that he could make out a look of surprise on the Heir’s face. John looked back down at Dirk, and again over the hill. Then, in an instant, John rose past the clouds and sped off away from The Battlefield. A single drop of blood landed on white grass in front of Dirk, unnoticed as it was trampled underfoot. Dirk jogged up the hill, his attention still set on the departing John before turning once he reached the hilltop.

            Dirk’s orange eyes widened as he gazed into the valley below. Hundreds of figures moved in between a hodgepodge of tents and other small structures. Flags of a neutral color flew above the campsites and the standards that Dirk could see presented no loyalty to Prospit or to Derse.

            Perhaps most shocking to the Prince were the black and white figures moving in and out of the tents, intermingling. Dirk shook his head and looked again, lowering his sunglasses to be sure that his eyes were not deceiving him.

            “Well this is… Interesting.” He muttered. Dirk stuck the tip of his blade into the soil at his feet and tapped a finger to his lens, bringing an assortment of windows and displays to life in his vision. He vocalized a short series of commands and opened a memo, addressing it to the three members of his personal cabinet.  
“Meet in Southwest Conference Hall in three hours. Tell no one. This is urgent.”

The Prince tapped his sunglasses and they dimmed, the displays fading from view. Dirk grabbed his sword, turned, and began jogging down the hill and away from the campsite. He expected the next few days to be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk reports to his cabinet, though it's apparent that they are less cooperative than he would prefer.

            A long violet table arrested most of the free space of the large, well lit meeting hall. Dozens of chairs sat empty; only two were occupied. One by Rose, the training Seer of Derse’s royal court, and another by Dave, knight and champion of Dirk, the Prince of the Kingdom of Darkness and heir to the throne. The court’s technological advisor, Roxy, quietly hummed to herself, laying recumbent on the table with an ornate glass in hand. Dirk paced, thumb and forefinger to chin in perplexity. All four blonde youths were clad in purple garb of various shades. Dirk wore a stately coat ensemble that emanated cautious authority and a seemingly out of place pair of triangular sunglasses, while Dave chose a simple tunic covered by a steel breastplate marred with years of nicks and scratches, rounder, weathered sunglasses balanced on his nose. Roxy and Rose both wore lavender gowns, though Rose’s trailed to her feet, while Roxy preferred to expose her stockings.

It was many minutes before Dirk finally spoke.

            “The villien appears to have rallied a force that we had never thought possible,” Dirk paused, resting a hand on the back of Dave’s chair and glancing out a nearby window. Staring into the void never brought him the peace that it imparted to others. Nothing had ever been able to sate his restlessness, “It was seriously fucking terrifying,” he proclaimed with a sharp breath, “All of those Prospitian pawns standing side-by-side with what I once thought were noble, loyal Dersites. Gettin’ real chummy and shoulder to shoulder and all that.” Dirk removed his hand from Dave’s chair and trailed his fingers to the jeweled pommel of his dress blade. He thumbed the hilt, inlaid with topaz and exquisite goldwork. Dirk had a bad habit of becoming quickly lost in thought while trying to make a point. His entourage had long since grown accustomed to the habit, but the Prince’s enigmatic speech still frustrated them to the day.

            “I think you’re overreacting,” said Rose, chiming in from drawing circles in the air with one of her wands. Dirk shot a glance to her from underneath his angular lenses. It was always an exchange of games with Rose.

            “Please fucking spell it out for me, Rose,” Dirk began with as much expression in his arms as he would allow, “Just how I’m overreacting.” Rose pursed her plump lips, stark in black lipstick against her unearthly pale skin. The Seer looked to her Prince and threw on a pout, siring a cocked brow from her liege.

            “They had a camp set up on the Battlefield. From the way that you described them in your memo, however, it doesn’t really seem as though they pose much of a threat. It’s not as though they possess the resources to bite the hands that once fed them.” Rose broke her gaze at Dirk and returned attention to drawing whispy trails of smoke in the air with her wand.

            “The camp that we saw easily had a thousand troops, if not more.” Dirk replied, blankly. Dave, who had been reclining in his chair for the duration, straightened his back and shot up a waving hand.

            “Snore-fucking-snoresville. We go through half that in a week. A fucking _slow_ week.” He said with as little possible concern as a human could muster. Dirk shot him a dirty look.

            “Hold your tongue.” He ordered. Dave promptly stuck out his tongue and gripped it in between his thumb and forefinger, giving a sarcastic thumbs up and mumbling an incoherent “Good to go.” Dirk rolled his eyes and turned back to the nearby window, resting his tanned hands on the sill, “Doesn’t this strike you people as something concerning? Something that could potentially snowball into, oh I dunno, a full scale fucking rebellion?” Dirk said with dry emphasis on his last few words. Rose openly scoffed, though Dirk pretended to not notice.

            “If these pawns really wanted to mount some manner of counteroffensive or otherwise defect and had amassed the resources that you seem to be so intent on talking up, then don’t you think they would have commandeered a series of shuttles and fled to one of the planets? They are very lightly regulated, and the consorts are traditionally genial, historically welcoming the presence of both Dersites and Prospitians should they not interfere with their daily lives. And even if they were not hospitable, a powerful, powder keg of a rebellion would have no trouble at all coercing a handful of turtles and iguanas!” Rose punctuated her words with lively arm movements, grinning the whole while. Her liege did not share in her sense of humor. From her recumbent position on the table, Roxy chimed in, alcohol slightly saturating each syllable.

            “An’ it’s not like that if we totally wanted to they could do ‘nything about it if we wanted to get all up their biz, you know? Like, both the concerts and the pawns.” The Rogue astutely noted in her buzzed stupor. Rose gestured to her cohort, offering her statement as an example to the insofar undiplomatic prince.

            “I still can’t see how this doesn’t appear relevant. At the very least something that, I dunno, _could_ warrant some further examination?” Dirk did not sound exasperated. The word was barely part of his vocabulary, “Rose, certainly you of all people at least see the potential in this.”

            “Of course I do, Dirk, though I’m dwelling on more relevant issues at the moment.” She replied, trailing off. Dirk barely opened his mouth before shutting it again, very slightly shaking his head.

            “I hardly see what could be more relevant than the potential for a full-fucking-scale military insurrection, especially given the current state of the war.” Dirk said in deadpan before falling into a parade rest, facing his entourage. Rose pinched her chin before extending her hand in a stately, presentative manner.

            “Will you indulge me for a moment?” She asked, plain and simply. Dirk shifted his footing.

            “I will.”  He replied, pupils darting across every contour of Rose’s face, contracting as he noticed her attempt to contain a grin.

            “You said ‘we’ came across the villien’s camp. However, you told us that you had ventured out alone to meditate before your discovery.” She said with a flicker of mischief in her eyes.

            “…Indeed.” Dirk replied, retaining his composure, his even breathing. He internally berated himself for the inclusion of such a trivial detail.

            “So, who else was with you?” The Seer inquired. She and Dirk locked eyes. Dirk could lie like the best of them, better than the best of them. And even though Rose possessed a mastery of mind games, Dirk was confident in his ability to best her. Still, he did not deem it appropriate. Not now, at least. Perhaps this cornering could work to his advantage.

            “It was John.” Dirk stated, plainly and dismissively, as though John were and old friend. Rose raised her eyebrows in mild surprise, her expectations well surpassed. Dave blinked beneath his shades and straightened himself out, adjusting his breastplate.

            “The Heir of Prospit?” The Knight inquired, “You saw John?” The title caught Roxy’s attention and she too began to interrogate her leader.

            “You mean the windy kid?” She asked.

            “Yes, John of Prospit,” Rose chimed in, much to Dirk’s dismay, “He who commands the power of The Breeze and bends it to his will,” The Seer turned her attention back to the Prince, “Dirk, this seems to be relevant information, that Prospit is also aware of this growing ‘threat’ of yours. Now, why didn’t you tell us this straight away?” She asked with a grin. Dirk heaved a sigh.

“It must have slipped my mind.” Dirk replied, touching his forehead and twisting his fingers away in a flourish. Rose poked the dimple of her cheek and met Dirk with a dry stare.

“It would appear.” She said. The room went silent for a moment, Dirk and Rose in a staring contest, Dave crossing his arms in silent contemplation. Even Roxy had ceased her humming, pink eyes darting in between the other players in the room, excitedly anticipating their next move.

“I’ll be in my chambers,” Dirk said as he turned on heel and walked towards the door, “Meditating.” He slid open the portal and stepped through, “No disturbances.” Roxy twisted on her back, rolling into an upright position and sliding off the table.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna call it quits, too. I got stuff to take care of.” The Rogue skipped away from the table, following Dirk through the door and sliding it shut. With that, the Seer and the Knight were left alone. As soon as he was certain of their isolation, Dave nearly jumped out of his chair to speak.

“Shit, you think that this could actually be a problem? See, ‘cause I’m trying to delegate my freakout factor here and it’d be nice to have some kinda direction.” He addressed the Seer, who replied with a shrug. Dave flicked the right lens of his sunglasses, a nervous habit, “We should probably tell the Queen about this.”

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary.” Rose said calmly. Dave raised and dropped his arms in inquisition.

“The fuck do you mean.”

“I know John.”

“Like hell you do.”

“I mean I know _of_ John. I’m aware of how he operates. What, do you think that you know the Heir better than I?” She playfully poked at his solar plexus, “Maybe _you’ve_ got some insider information that you’d like to share.” Rose said with a smirk. Dave quickly reached up and thumbed the frame of his sunglasses, his bitten nail eventually coming to rest on a particular chip in the frame. Rose smiled at the Knight. He dropped his hand and drew it back through his slick blonde hair.

“No, of course I don’t. The hell do you think I am?” He replied. Rose’s smirk grew.

“From what I’m aware, he won’t address this problem with _his_ royalty either.” Rose stood, smoothing the wrinkles in her purple gown. Dave snorted.

“And what makes _you_ so fuckin’ sure.” Dave quipped. Rose turned to the Knight and stood on her tip-toes, meeting him at eye level. She maintained this for a moment before imparting Dave a playful wink and dropping to her feet. Dave contorted his visage into a wretched expression, warranting a giggle from the Seer.

“I have my certainties,” Rose began as she too turned to leave, “Besides, who would _we_ be to descend to The Battlefield and slaughter scores of potentially innocent troops?” She said, putting a flourish in her step. Dave shoved his hands into his pockets and followed suit, slouching as much as his breastplate would allow.

“You don’t trust Dirk.” He said flatly.

“Of course I do,” Rose replied quickly, almost defensively, “I just think that it’s more prudent of us to direct our, my energies elsewhere.” They had passed through and shut the door and had made their way down a substantial length of hallway before Dave replied, all the while never breaking his directly frontward gaze.

“You’re not seriously thinking of going back to the Land of Wind and Shade, are you?” Dave caught a glimpse of Rose’s smirk in his peripheral vision as they came to an intersection in the hallway. Rose turned away from the Knight, running a hand along his shoulder and giving him a slight push.

“Oh, Dave, I would never dream of it.” Rose said as she departed down a new passage, leaving Dave alone at the intersection. He watched Rose walk out of view and paused.

“Fucking hell, John. Why now…” The Knight muttered as he struck the marble floor of the palace hall with the heel of his boot, cursing under his breath before himself departing to his own designs.

On Prospit, the Heir, the Page, the Witch, and the Maid deliberated among their detachments, quarreling about many things, though the villien was not one of them. John cast his gaze towards Skaia for a brief moment before returning to his thief and knight. He would tell them. Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is my first shot at long form fanfic.
> 
> Do y'all think it would be a good idea to post something detailing the mythos and general premise of this AU? 'Cause I can do that. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and, as always, tell me what you think!
> 
> Pastebin:   
> Chapter 1: pastebin.com/ATWJruCa  
> Chapter 2: pastebin.com/JEzE20DZ


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